


Watching Over You

by Anythingtoasted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anythingtoasted/pseuds/Anythingtoasted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sammy?” Dean cracked one eye open and there was little his brother like he knew he’d be eventually, standing in the orange line of light that came through the curtains from the parking lot, his long, wide-palmed hands twisting and kneading at his (Dean’s) too-big shirt, eyes huge in the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching Over You

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t even know what this is, aha. i just have a lot of brother feelings; the difference between me and my brother is the same as dean and sam, and i used to do this when he was a kid, so.

"Sammy?" Dean cracked one eye open and there was little his brother like he knew he'd be eventually, standing in the orange line of light that came through the curtains from the parking lot, his long, wide-palmed hands twisting and kneading at his (Dean's) too-big shirt, eyes huge in the darkness. 

"Can I?" he asked, stage whispering, and Dean rolled his eyes and shuffled over in the bed, feeling it dip just slightly as Sam crawled in beside him and lay close enough that Dean felt uncomfortable prickly heat all down his left side. He tried not to let irritation color his voice. 

"I told you." he whispered, and Sam made an unhappy, sleepy sound of defiance.

"Dad's gone." he said, not rising to his brother's bait, and Dean tutted, something his Mom always used to do when he came in the house coated in mud, or bruised and triumphant after school. Sam sighed and shifted, staring up at the ceiling, and Dean rolled over onto his side, so that he had his back to him.

"I know." he muttered againt the stale bedsheets, eyes dropping closed. 

"Where is he?"

"Go to sleep, Sam."

Sam made another noise, almost a whine, and shifted again, pressing a little closer to Dean's back. "You never tell me anything." he grumbled, but the yawn tacked on the end of the sentence betrayed him. 

"Go to sleep, Sam." Dean repeated; then, feeling guilty, he sighed. "Love you." he said, out of ritual and habit but, at ten years old, already starting to feel embarrassment crawl up his spine. 

There was a long, dissatisfied silence from Sam, and then; "G'night, Dean." in a soft, resigned voice. "Love you too." 

Dean lay awake, then; heard his brother's shallow breathing turn deep, rolled over to face him, watching his nose and listening to his breaths huff in and out. 

He remembered when Sammy was a baby and he'd had no crib, so John had put him in the bed with them; all three Winchester boys together. John had told him, stern even in the days after the fire; "Watch him while I'm gone, Dean. Make sure he doesn't stop breathing." 

He knew now that John had only meant it as a caution; _'Don't eat all of those fries, Dean_ ', ' _Don't pick on your brother, Dean_ '; but at five years old he'd taken it literally, watched his brother all night, eyes pried open, deathly afraid that he'd just  _stop_ , like his Dad had said. 

Even now, sometimes, he couldn't help it. 

"You're a pain in the ass." he whispered to his brother's sleeping face, repeating something he'd heard his Dad say, once. Sam kept on breathing; in, and out. 

 


End file.
